


Resonate

by rikacain



Category: Soul Eater, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-09 22:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikacain/pseuds/rikacain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers are a team of Meisters and Weapons, put together to deal with a Kishin called Thanos. </p>
<p>But nothing is ever as simple as everyone would like it to be - Steve Rogers is most decidedly out of his own time, Tony Stark cannot keep to one partner, Bruce Banner is an uncertain factor to SHIELD, and not to mention the problems within the Odinson family.</p>
<p>They'll be lucky to take Thanos out before they take themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Soul Eater AU!
> 
> Some basic terminologies are in order to be explained. 
> 
> Meisters - Humans who wield Weapons, the Weapon's partner. The more they get along, the better for them. 
> 
> Weapons - Individuals who can turn into a certain weapon/s at will. They are wielded by Meisters. 
> 
> Evil Humans - As it says on the tin. Evil Humans require consumption of a hundred souls before turning into a Kishin. 
> 
> Kishin - A 'god' of madness. Once human, now radiating madness in thick waves. Bad idea for Earth. 
> 
> Witches - Individuals able to use magic according to their specific animal. 
> 
> If there are any unfamiliar terms, please drop a comment and I'll add in the explanation. Thank you!

It has been far too long, Steve thinks as he walks up the stairs and into the building. Gone is the humongous building that used to be the North American headquarters - instead, he is directed to and greeted by a small inconspicuous office block. He hears that they are no longer 'Shibusen', instead adopting the acronym S.H.I.E.L.D. - but whatever that stands for it should be along the same lines as the original. He does not know.

(His last mission still haunts him, peeking out from every stray shadow, every pocket of silence. The Witch he was assigned to hunt down had made a last-ditch attempt at defeating him - Bucky had shifted back from his weapon form and took the full blast as Steve fell back, back and far below where the ice formed and eventually covered him. It was a miracle that he was merely preserved and not frozen to death, even more so that Shibu- no, SHIELD agents found him half a century later. Perhaps it has something to do with the ice.)

He steps into the room and someone rises from their seat to greet him. "You must be Captain America," he says, and Steve nods. He has long forgotten the moniker they had assigned him years back, as Shibusen's poster boy for recruiting new Agents. The person continues, "Phil Coulson. Director Fury wants to see you, sir."

Coulson leads him through a series of floors, corridors, lifts and doors and Steve honestly thinks that the building should not be so large. The silence is punctuated with every flick of his guide's eyes before he (finally) says, "May I have your autograph?"

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it. He was not expecting that.

* * * * *

They have called him many things.

He realises that yes, changing partners every week or so (his record is five minutes) is not entirely orthodox. But the sad truth is that every single one of his partners are trying far too hard to get him as their Meister - Tony Stark, son of famous Meister Howard Stark, possibly destined for greater and more. His partner - now ex-partner, actually, and he did not even get to see her Weapon form - is shouting at him, asking him all sorts of redundant questions he would rather not answer since there is no need to.

He almost wishes that Pepper was a Weapon, they would get along splendidly. As it was, Pepper is a Meister although she leant more to the administrative details of life.

The girl slaps him after a rudely placed comment said accidentally on purpose and storms off, and Tony heaves a sigh of relief. He leans down to scratch Jarvis on his head, before heading out of the door. He is sufficiently late for that briefing Fury wanted and hopefully Fury will not get on his case of changing partners faster than he could spot the latest promotion for eye-patches.

Who is he kidding, of course he will. But, and Tony's lips curl up into a self-satisfied smirk, that's all part of the fun.

* * * * *

She was there, far earlier than the rest - which actually meant on time. Fury stood at one end of the table, his one eye watching (glaring at) the door, waiting for the rest of the members supposed to attend the meeting to trickle in. Natasha cannot deny that there will be people who are obviously going to be late (Stark) but the faster this briefing is over, the better. She had been called over from the Eastern Europe branch in the middle of an assignment and she is not amused.

Agents from all over the world are being called over to the North American branch, she realises as she quickly flips through the notes Fury handed to her. Banner was coming in from the African branch, Thor Odinson from the Western European counterpart. Barton, who had previously assigned Asia (she almost fondly remembers his exclamations of becoming a ninja) was also coming in. Natasha wonders what is so important that Fury required these specific people?

When Steve Rogers turns up with a bemused look on his face alongside Coulson who looks more flustered than she ever thought he can actually be, a smile flickers on her face. Fury dismisses Coulson as quickly as he came, and she leans over to Rogers, grasping his hand in a handshake and introducing herself, quick and efficient. "Has he asked you for an autograph yet," she muses aloud, and he returns the statement with a quick, jerky nod. The corner of her lips lifts up into an amused curl and she tells him about what Captain America merchandise has been passed around in SHIELD for the last fifteen years, micro films and memorabilia. Rogers looks torn between bewilderment and amusement.

Barton comes in soon enough, assuming a soldier's mindset the moment he sees Fury, although he does drop Natasha a whisper over how far he could climb on the ceiling 'like a fucking ninja' now. Thor blunders in moments later, booming his apologies and introducing his younger brother, who Fury also sends out much to Thor's blatant dismay and the said younger brother's thinly veiled relief. Banner shuffles in, sending everyone a clear message of how much he would rather not be here. Natasha cannot agree less.

(They start the meeting without Stark, whom truly to Natasha's expectations saunters in an hour later with a fading handprint splashed across his cheek.)

* * * * *

The meeting starts with Fury stating the obvious in rather rude terms: we have a problem.

Of course they have a problem - there are more and more Evil Humans (Bruce winces at the capital letters they honour the term with every time) and more souls likely to turn into Kishins (he'd rather not use the term demon gods, thank you very much) and what else could there be? Would-be Kishins teaming up together to reach their aspiration? Goodness knows that they would turn on themselves before executing the first step of any plan.

But what keeps Bruce on his toes is that they decided to call him in. Bruce Banner, who they have sent all over the world (even though he was assigned to Asia it was a flimsy limit overridden by those higher up), Bruce Banner who is sent on more often than not suicide missions in the hopes that if he does not manage to take down the objective it will take him down instead. He has no partner, no partner that can match his soul's wavelength - his wavelength is considered off the meter enough for the whole of SHIELD to consider him a possible Kishin, a threat. At times he wishes he was not a weapon, but he resigns himself to the fact that there is nothing else he can be.

Fury keeps talking, but apparently it is only one would-be Kishin he is after - Thanos, he dubs him and Bruce wonders if the Evil Human did not read the Greek textbook correctly and ended up half-arsing his own name from the correct 'Thanatos'. No one seems to share this sentiment - Rogers is sitting straight at attention and one can wonder if his back can be any straighter; Romanoff and Barton are coiled loosely but still tense and alert. Thor, Thor is halfway through of a box of Pop-Tarts and Fury's one eye seems to be focusing more on him than the notes held stiffly in his hands. Bruce sits back in his chair and waits.

Agent Romanoff asks the question Bruce finally wants to be asked and the whole room leans in. Fury scoffs and delivers straight to the punch, he has lost more Agents than SHIELD was willing to lose to Thanos so they're there to tie up the loose ends of the fucking ribbon on the present that won't stay tied. Barton stifles a snort and if Fury was a gun, Barton would be shot clean in between the eyes. It would be a quick death.

Stark walks in and introduces himself with a flourish and Barton is swept off the radar (for now). They repeat everything all over again and Fury guns Stark down, insisting he is not an Agent until he can gets a Partner, one that can last for more than six months and has not spread his legs for him yet, that would be the bonus. Stark flips him off and Agent Rogers frowns at the blatant display of disrespect.

If they were to work together as Fury implies, Bruce thinks that one Kishin would be so much easier to deal with than a group of rag-tag Meisters and Weapons.

* * * * *

Thor Odinson has been destined for many a great things since he was young.

Odin Borson was an accomplished Meister, now retired and married to fellow Meister Frigga. Thor is expected to be the same, a Meister that lives up to the standard set by his predecessor or even surpass it. He does not shy from his path, hoping even to outshine his father's feats of hunting down David Fitzpatrick or even Countess Elizabeta Bathory. He wants to shine both in his own right and next to his father.

Well, he would and could if he weren't so damned picky.

"Thor," Frigga sighs once more as she watches the partner Thor had apologized to scurry away in despair. The girl would have been an acceptable partner at least, and Frigga did rather like the spear she could turn into. Thor also eyes her retreating back before turning to his mother.

"Yes, Mother?"

Thor had grown up well, exuding all the confidence and aura that Odin had in his youth and Frigga cannot hold back a smile. But she must repeat this lesson over again and again if she must, for Odin himself will not be so lenient with his words.

"Thor, as much as I respect how much you wish to live up to your namesake," and at this Thor puffs up proudly, almost like a golden peacock, "you must realise that the odds of finding a hammer, let alone a lightning hammer is extremely slim."

Her son is undeterred, as he has been many times ago. "No, Mother," he says, and is so sure of himself Frigga can almost believe him. "There is someone like that. I swear, there will be and I will find her."

Frigga can only continue smiling - but she wonders if Thor one day will look back and regret that he have been so sure of himself, so confident that this dream weapon only for him will be found; only to lose out many chances along the wait. But Thor has a habit of surprising people and astounding them, and perhaps this matter in which he believes in with all his heart will turn out to be true.

They return back into the house, unwary of watchful green eyes from the second-storey window.

* * * * *

Loki Odinson has always been concealed within the shadow cast by his brother since he was young.

He had once believed that he would be able to bring his family, bring Odin and Frigga pride and joy as a Meister, like Thor. Although he lacked significantly in terms of strength and power, he was sure that his speed and slighter frame could make up for his loss. He could shine next to Thor, the two Odinsons shining well above the rest in SHIELD.

His dream came crashing down in a messy heap when he was fifteen.

He had been on his way home when he was mugged, or at least someone attempted to mug him. Although he tried to fight back using his fists and whatever else he could get his hands on and _swing_ , his ambusher had a rather large knife. It was only when he threw up his arm to block the blade from approaching his face - that very arm turned into something blue and metal and screeched against the knife.

He could not even think to chase after the mugger as he ran away, screaming. Loki ran home, ran home to confront his father.

(All at once, everything was clear, why he could never seem to match up to Thor, to everyone else in the family. _You were adopted_.)

When Thor knew that his younger brother was a weapon, word quickly spread. His partner left him for another Meister, and no one in the Western European branch wanted to take that place. Why let a weapon be a Meister when weapons were already so scarce? Other Meisters approached him instead, those who were daring enough anyway.

He rejected all of them. Loki Odinson, whoever's son, refused to be a weapon, and will never turn into one again for as long as he lives. He has trained all his life to be a Meister and he is not about to give up that dream - he will prove to all of them, every single one of them who had mocked a weapon's effort to be a Meister instead of what he was born as, he will prove that he could outshine the rest of them, and even his own not-brother. It is not fair for Thor to excel as a Meister just because he is born into a family of distinguished Meisters - Loki should have that chance.

When Thor decides to bring him along to North America, where he was called to and more importantly _where no one knows him_ , he jumps at the opportunity. He waits in front of the door, for the meeting to end. He knows who he wants to approach.

("Mr. Barton. May I have a quick word with you?")

* * * * *

Clint has been in the business for a long, long time.

He has seen his fair share of missions and Evil Humans, has been assigned to places halfway around the world. (Hell, he's been in this business longer than even Natasha herself.) He has been on cases that left him almost next to death and cases that were easy as one-two-shoot. He, Clint Barton, has seen it all, baby.

So when a scrawny boy who he recognizes as Odinson's younger brother asks him whether he can try partnering up with him, he almost wonders why. Thor Odinson is well known even in the international circle of SHIELD associates even if he is seemingly trying to compete with Stark over who has the most partners within the month - but his brother? Not so. He assesses the boy, but as the smile on his subject's face grows even more frigid he relents.

They proceed to shooting range, and once Clint picks a distance he deems far enough he shifts into his weapon form. Loki is able to pick him up, but Clint is made aware of an familiar feeling he cannot quite place his finger on the moment contact is estabilished. He tries to dwelve into it as Loki aims, as he draws the bowstring back with some difficulty and as he is about to shoot.

When Loki lets go, Clint finally realizes what the feeling was and-

The rejection is immediate - the silver arrow dissipates as something tears between their mutual arrangement. Loki panics and forces his soul wavelength into Clint's own. Clint suffers the whiplash, turning back into his human form and coughing up coppery blood; when he looks up Loki is staring down at him, breathing harshly and frozen.

"You're a weapon," Clint says.

Something shatters and Loki turns to leave without a word.


	2. Chapter 2

Their first covert mission ends in disaster. Agent Stark is compromised, his Partner of the Day broken beyond repair.

Thanos is more driven than any other Evil Human they have seen - from what they have seen, consuming a hundred human souls is not his goal any longer. In the wake of the chaos and destruction he leaves, not one soul have not been accounted for. They are all intact.

The same cannot be said for the people he works with, the organisation called C.H.I.T.A.U.R.I. that was also filled with Evil Humans aspiring to be Kishin. They add to the mess, devouring souls left and right but most are easily taken out before they even reach the halfway mark. Apparently souls require a digesting time of sorts, Steve will never understand. He supposes that the purer the soul is, the harder it is to digest.

Although Fury (and Steve, to a small extent) were inclined to add Stark to the list of fallen Agents, Stark shows up three months later. His eyes were darker than before, haunted by sights - Steve has seen those eyes before, in soldiers who made it through the first great Crisis. He approaches Stark when Ms. Potts (he is not sure of her rank) leaves to acquire a cheeseburger for some reason, saying, "Hey."

 "Hey yourself, Capsicle," and Stark grins at him, quick and easy - his arrogance still present in every gleam of his teeth. Steve wants to say so much, but he realises that whatever Stark has experienced will never be understood by him. Stark jabs him with mentions of how he should be getting about and don't be an ice cube, but he is waiting nonetheless.

"It's great to have you back," Steve finally says.

 The heavy pats on his back tell him that his sentiment is more than enough.  

 * * * * *

  It becomes apparent after Stark's little MIA, SHIELD has moles.  

 Agent Stane is found out for selling SHIELD secrets, much to Stark's shock. It took Potts a week to get him off the bar, and another week to get him back into commission. It does not help that everyone remembers him _encouraging_ Stark to change partners so often.

 A detailed search occurs, delving deep into all associated SHIELD members' histories, connections, etc., headed by Assistant Director Hill. Romanov is dispatched to gather intel through her means and comes back victorious. A good number of moles are ratted out, a number of Witches were even found within the inner ranks of the organisation. Fury is displeased, Thor even more so.

Loki is one of the moles.  

 * * * * * 

"Brother-" and Loki's glare is pure poison, undiluted hatred directed wholly at Thor. Thor suppresses a flinch, and stares squarely back. Out of all the moles, they are most wary of Loki - there has been rumours of black blood, and Loki is a weapon no matter how much he refuses to be one; if his brother has taken it in, he will be a danger to all of them. For this very reason, they have decided to restrain and bind his tongue, and Thor is left with no brother to answer him. He reaches out a shaky hand and makes to stroke his younger brother's hair.

 Loki jerks his head to the side, a clear indication that he does not want. Thor insists and reaches out yet again, and this almost-game of tag continues until they both tire and Loki (always Loki) gives up and stays still. His hand finally touches, almost gentle, the mass of slightly tangled black locks of hair and he twists and combs through them - a mockery of the time when they were much younger, when they both were young and promises broken were easily forgotten.

They stay like that until Fury's trusted men turn up to bring him to be interrogated, until they were intercepted by Witches, and Thor charges towards his brother as he disappears in a swirl of green flames and high mocking laughter tinged with the sickly sweet smell of regrets.

 * * * * *

 Natasha and Banner are paired up for the next mission, and neither are pleased. No one is happy nowadays - Banner shares his observation and Natasha agrees with an amused tilt of her head.  

They stay cordial as they go through the objectives in the cramped Jeep that drives them through the dusty roads and empty spaces of India - a high-ranking operative known as the Other had been sighted around Calcutta, and they are to take him in. Any other Evil Humans within the area are to be taken down, and on the off chance that they come across Thor's little brother, he is to be taken in alive if possible. It was fairly straight-forward and simple, and like all other jobs, easier said than done. 

The jeep lets them off at several spots - a stall selling cracked pottery, a restaurant, a dilapidated school - and they enquire after leads and rumours and bribe secrets from the local with two or three bank notes (five if he or she is particuarly stubborn. Children will rather have small sweets). After a week, they still have nothing except dust on their shoes and more irritation, and often they find themselves wondering when was Fury going to call them back. 

They hit jackpot on their ninth day. Or rather, jackpot literally hits them. 

The jeep is suddenly swarmed with a flash of poisonous, green magic that lifts it clear off the ground and flips it over. Natasha immediately cuts the seatbelt strap away from herself and Banner, leaving the man to hang on to the restraints for dear life as she curled herself up into a ball. The jeep eventually comes to rest after playing 'shake-the-can' with them inside, and Banner kicks the door open. 

"You fine there?" He asks, panting wildly. Natasha nods quickly and they clamber out onto the battlefield. A number of Evil Humans, a Witch with a grossly oversized ladybird on her head and the Other were there, barrelling into their general direction. Natasha looks around for anything to defend herself with - there is no one, nothing at all, save for Banner himself. 

This was supposed to be a covert mission, she thinks darkly. Were there more moles than she thought there were?

"Miss Romanov," Banner is saying next to her, "I don't suppose we are getting any back-up, are we?"

She turns to look at him. Banner, a Weapon. 

A Weapon. 

"No," he is hastily saying, "no, please don't think of it, no."

Behind her, the crackle of green magic sounds again and she pulls Banner down just as the Jeep explodes into a thousand of pieces. Debris and rubber and metal rains down all around them and Natasha states calmly into his face, "Give me another choice."

Banner bows his head and doesn't look at her. "This isn't a choice."

The enemy surges closer. 

"I can handle it." Natasha can, really. She has been trained to work with Weapons of any wavelength - how different can Banner's be? "I promise."

Banner closes his eyes and shifts.

* * * * *

She couldn't handle it. 

He should have known, should have insisted, but the situation was far too dire for clear judgement. He had shifted and his wavelength lashed out at hers, over and over, until she finally lost consciousness twenty-one minutes later. Bruce has to give it to her, the record was fifteen. 

He had then turned his attention to the Evil Humans and began to decimate their numbers, tens after tens. The Witch had shrieked in alarm and magicked the Other and herself away before Bruce could deal any substantial damage. It took an hour or two before he harvested the last Evil Human, before he reigned back in control and rushed to Romanov's side. 

It was a shame really, Bruce thinks as he watches Agent Barton sitting next to her in the hospital bed. But it would have been far too easy. 

Bruce walks away. 

* * * * *

"You think we'll get to see Rasputin ?" Tony asks and Agent Coulson eyes him unimpressedly. The frigid winds of Siberia whips and howls about them as the snow truck rumbles its way through to the KGB base they were tipped off on. Or so Fury says, when he cites an anonymous source - Tony has the feeling that they are waltzing into a death trap, but who listens to the guy who just knocked off his psychiatry counselling whatever it is? (Pepper tells him that not going in the first place does not count it as 'knocking off', but hey, no one knows.)

"Maybe Stalin," and at this Steve perks up, only to frown at Tony. Oh yeah, Stalin was alive during his time, silly Stark. Agent Coulson immediately looks at his idol, hands twitching almost imperceptibly, slightly leaning closer to him. Oh, oh, oh. 

(If Tony has a room full of Captain America memorabilia that would make Agent Coulson positively swoon upon entering it, he does not say. It was mostly his father's anyway, which he will say.)

"What's the premises for this mission, Agent Coulson?" Steve looks out of the miniature window cased in white, and the lines on his face are set even deeper. The ice bothers him, creeps on his nerve, yet his steel shows and not his pain. Bucky is somewhere, albeit in Germany, somewhere within mounds and mounds of ice, lost forever to the world. It leaves a bitter taste at the back of his throat and he swallows it down. 

Coulson flips through a file, soggy and crumpled at its edges. "Eliminate any Evil Humans in the area, infiltrate the base for information on any CHITAURI agents, don't get compromised." He looks up, eyes narrowing shrewdly at Tony, and Tony whistles it off. 

"And why am I assigned without a partner?" Tony leans in, also interested in the answer to Steve's question - why indeed, did they send three Meisters without any accompanying Weapons. Coulson clears his throat nervously. 

"I'm a heavy gun," he admits, and looks over at Steve. Steve does not react in any way. "The mission should be relatively tame to handle it by ourselves, so don't worry too much."

No one does. The base turns out empty, save for a single operating cryogenic chamber. Why anyone would want to build an ice chamber in somewhere already so cold, Tony will never know. 

But that is not what is important, because in what they finds in that chamber later is-

"Bucky."

* * * * *

"Ah, the traitor."  The scientist smiles toothily at them, his beady eyes glinting in the dim light. His skin is wreathed with blue ink tattoos over tattoos, and Loki can almost believe the red in his eyes were real. 

Almost. 

"Cut the theatrics, Laufey," he says smoothly. Beside him, the Other shifts onto his other foot, impatient. Are all Evil Humans this impatient, Loki wonders, or is it just the soul-lust talking? It matters not a whit to him. "We know you found the black blood. We want it."

"And what will I have in return?" Laufey stretches his grin wider, a Cheshire smile. Loki grows ever more irritated, and does not bother to hide - with people like Laufey, honey never works. Only sharp barbs of truth that spears them through and leave them much lower, lower down than they originally were, and oh, how Loki enjoys those type of people. When he is done with them, at least. 

"Funding from Thanos himself," Loki replies. "We know of your research. We will fund it should you turn that one small vial over to us."

"And who will you use it on?" Laufey asks, his hands scrabbling through the mess on his cluttered desk in this small hovel of a house. "The Weapon standing next to you, the silver spear? Or on yourself, and you will know madness like no one else will ever know." He says this with a sigh, like he would give up anything to taste the madness reserved for Kishin and weapons imbued with black blood. But Laufey would never be a Kishin, Loki knows, and Thanos knows it too, for he is far too cowardly to find souls to consume and risk showing up on SHIELD's radar. "Only enough for one, so choose wisely," he adds, and smiles to himself sharply. 

As he hands the corked vial over to Loki, Loki grins a crimson smile at Laufey himself. "Oh, I will," he says, and the Other shifts into the silver spear with a mad cackle of glee, embedding himself into Laufey's chest. The smile on the mad scientist freezes, but does not slide away as he crumpled onto the floor. Loki turns away only once the Other shifted back and began to extract the soul from the corpse, and consuming it. 

"Fifty-eight for me," he croaks. "And he has only one left. I have far to go."

"Why does he not consume that last one?" Loki muses aloud. From what Loki has known of Thanos, and it is still little to everything else, he is cruel, efficient, ruthless. "Why bother saving that last soul, whoever it is?"

"I know not," the Other joins him, and together they begin to retrace their steps, out of this hellhole. "But it makes it more fun anyway, more devastating. I suppose I will have to stop at ninety. Who knows what he will do to someone who becomes a Kishin before himself." Loki says nothing to that, filing that information away for later use. 

They are almost out of the back-alleys of Oslo when Thor arrives. 

"Brother," he shouts, and Loki snarls in frustration - of course Thor will come at the most inappropriate timing. "You will stop this madness, and you will hand over the black blood!"

"You are weaponless, Thor," Loki mocks in return. Although the Other makes to shift into the silver spear once more, he holds him back. "How can you hope to fight me, without a partner by your side? Look at you, so fickle for a hammer, and when it matters the most you have nothing to fight with!" For this Loki resents Thor - he has so many willing partners and yet he chooses none, and Loki himself no one approaches. 

He hates Thor. 

Thor launches himself at Loki, and the Other shifts into the silver spear in his hand - a spear that he drops, and allows himself to be tackled back into the shadows of the alleyway instead. "You give up this traitorous plan," Thor is yelling; or is it pleading, his voice is wavering like it has never done so before. "You come home."

"To be ostracised?" Loki hisses into his once-brother's face, the wind knocked out of him. "To go back to a shadow, the second Odinson that no one wants to partner? The shame of the family, a Weapon wanting to be a Meister? You could have said nothing, Thor, but you love the sound of your own voice far too much to tell everyone the truth!"

Thor flinches back, but his knee hits something on Loki's body - there is the sharp crunch of glass and a stab of pain on Loki's thigh. They look down, and something red and black is forming on the material of Loki's pants. Gingerly, slowly, he peels his pants off the area - the vial of black blood had shattered, embedding shards of glass into the flesh, and Loki can almost swear he can see the black blood seep into the wound, mixing with the red. 

Thor is saying his name, shaking him, apologising, but this takes the cake - of all things Thor could have done, have always done, is turn Loki's most fine-tuned plans onto its head. He, the great fool, was supposed to take the vial from him and deliver it to SHIELD and Loki would have let him under the guise of defeat - but no, Thor insisted on confronting him and now...

Loki has black blood in him. 

The Other suddenly appears and wrenches Thor off Loki, who is still dazed and unseeing. Amora appears yet again in a flash of green at the behest of the Other, takes a single glance and transports the three of them back to where Thanos resides. The memory of Thor shouting his name is burned into his retina and Loki does not want to see anymore. 

"Ah, the traitor."

Thanos approaches him slowly from his chair, the Other and Amora bowing away smoothly at the sound of his gravelly voice. Loki is still on the floor, lower, vulnerable, and Thanos looks down on him with a small smile across his gaunt purple face. 

"You knew," Loki says blandly, he cannot be bothered with lies anymore. "I was the mole on both sides."

"I know, yes," Thanos replies, amusement colouring his tone. "That you are the anonymous source that Fury totes around without knowing himself. How does it feel, Loki, to be part of a plan not your own?" Loki does not reply to that. 

"If it is any consolation," Thanos continues, "had you returned with the black blood, I would not have used it on the Other. I would have used it on you." He bares his teeth, wider, in a feral grin as Loki looks up, the situation sinking in clearly. "You can never go back to SHIELD now, little mole. They will run tests on you, cut you apart and watch for a sample of that precious black blood that only you now provide. You can only stay with us here, with madness, with the lady Death herself." Thanos caresses the term Death the same way Laufey talks of madness moments earlier, and the black blood simmers and bubbles through his veins and under his skin. He does not wish to fall into the madness, not never. 

"Sleep on it, little mole," and it is too late when the Other injects something into his neck, a sedative perhaps, for the world is blurring at the edges and Thanos grows ever larger, ever smaller, ever larger. His eyelids are heavy and drooping shut, but beneath them are dreams of Thor, dreams of blood splattered upon blood, dreams of Kishins and Thanos, they are one and the same. 

Dreams of madness. 

"Sweet dreams, Loki," Amora lilts in a breathy sigh next to him, and the world finally turns to red and black and nothing. 

* * * * *

Thor wakes up gasping to the sound of an alarm. 

"Get up, get up, the big boy came out," Tony Stark is saying, pushing him from his room. They meet their partners (of the day, still) at the lobby, the rest of the team already waiting for them. 

"Miss Romanov," Thor first greets. "You are well now?"

She gives a curt nod and a dark smile, and Thor notices how she distances herself from Banner. Barton puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder and she relaxes, but only slightly. Banner shifts uncomfortably, looking at Stark - the two of them had been getting along quite well, bonding over science concepts far beyond Thor's understanding. He thinks that if Loki was here, he would participate in that discussion. 

But Loki isn't, and never will. Not after what Thor did. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," Agent Coulson says as he strides up to them, the effect lost when Thor realised he is striding after Rogers. Apparently the good Captain has been standing guard over his lost friend for the past week or so, and Thor feels a pang of jealously. At least he has someone he knows, someone he is close to by his side. Thor had asked Jane, one of the research associates, about the effect of the black blood, desperate to know how much he has (not) hurt his brother, and she had told him about the enhanced fighting capability and the initial waves of madness manifesting in dreams. 

He had hurt his brother far too much. It is a little wonder now, that Loki detests him. 

"Thanos came out to play?" Stark asks. 

Agent Coulson nods tersely. "You know the premises for this mission," he says. "Priority is to take Thanos down. Other known operatives such as the Other and the Witch Amora are to be subdued. All Evil Humans are to be taken out. Any questions, just radio in. Are we clear?"

The answer is affirmative. The orders to move out is given, and they do so - Barton is paired with Natasha over the north end of New York; Stark, Rogers and Coulson are to close in from the west; Thor from the east and Banner alone from the south. Thanos is in town, but no one knows exactly where - and if anyone knows that Thor will take after Loki at the first sighting, no one brings it up. 

The city is rampant with Evil Humans that come in swarms after Thor, and he dispatches them with a quick jab to their hearts. (Miss Lewis yawns and complains that he is treating her too roughly. Thor is unable to tell whether it is said in jest or in all seriousness.) The taser occasionally crackles with the low hum of electricity when suddenly he catches sight of Loki, wielding that silver spear of a Weapon. His brother looks haggard, circles beneath his eyes and twitching about. He does not see Thor. 

Thor chases after him, and he disappears. 

"Sorry, love," a feminine voice giggles and the green flare that burns in his mind returns, spinning wildly to form Amora. "I'm to make sure you don't get near the little Weapon. You wanna play with me instead?"

Thor is fond of close combat, but unwieldy when it comes to jabbing and not swinging. The Witch sneers and sweeps her hand in front of her, casting her incantation and summoning green flames, and Thor steps fast and close to relentlessly land a hit on her body. 

He has to get to Loki, he reminds himself and continues his barrage. He has to. 

* * * * *

"We're not finding him," Natasha radios in. 

"Copy that," Phil mutters back. He taps a rhythm into the transceiver, and steals a glance at the Captain. He had hoped that he would be given a chance to work with him, at least once, but it seems the Captain will rather work with his bare hands before working with another Weapon. For now, until Barnes wakes up. 

Phil wishes Barnes will never wake up. 

"Coulson!" Stark yells as he takes out another two Evil Humans. "You have a better plan?"

"I thought your plan was to 'attack'," he replies drily. He radios into Banner anyway. "Banner. What's your situation?"

The static crackles. 

"Banner, do you copy? What is your position?"

Suddenly, the building to his side blows out, and Thanos is thrown in front of him. He shouts for Stark and the Captain to move back, now, Banner is coming - but Thanos grabs his throat and slams him against the wall. 

"You," and his smile splits into a wide, wide grin. "You'll do."

The last thing Phil Coulson feels is a hand sliding into his chest and ripping out a yellow ball of light, of his Soul; and the last thing he sees is that ball sliding into Thanos' mouth. 

(The city explodes black.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was longer than I expected. Thank you for the kudos, and for reading!


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